Thank You For Stalking
by Lady Sarai Black
Summary: He wasn't stalking. Really, he wasn't. He just... liked to know where Potter was at any given time. And if to know where he was, he had to follow him... well. It still didn't make it stalking. HPDM, ONESHOT, FLUFF, STUPIDITY.


**Thank You For Stalking**

He wasn't stalking. Really, he wasn't. He just... liked to know where Potter was at any given time. And if to know where he was, he had to follow him... well. It still didn't make it stalking. HPDM

This was written for Megan, and it was meant to be finished a year ago. I was busy. But it was written over the space of a year, so if it doesn't make sense... or doesn't sound like it's written in the same style... well that's why. Apologies for the ridiculousness.

**HPDM**

**HPDM**

Draco stood in the corridor outside the library, trying not to look suspicious. And failing, but at least he _tried_. It was hard not to look suspicious when you were him.

He ran his fingers through his hair and wished again that someone had agreed to come with him. It was so much more suspicious to be lurking hanging around the library by himself than if he was with his friends. His bloody useless friends who refused to 'indulge his obsession'. He wasn't obsessed. He did not have an infatuation. And he definitely wasn't stalking.

Harry and co. exited the library, laughing at a joke the Weasel made. Draco sidestepped behind a nearby suit of armour and pressed himself against the wall. He was sure that if Potter caught him in the vicinity of him and his friends again, Granger wouldn't be able to stop the Chosen One from hexing the shit out of him.

They passed by without so much as turning to look in his direction, and Draco felt a simultaneous rush of relief and disappointment. There was something fucking wrong with him.

He waited for them to turn the corner and then extricated himself from the armour, the clanging sound echoing down the hall.

He set off in the direction the trio went. What he wouldn't give for Potter's invisibility cloak. It'd make his life so much easier.

**HPDM**

**HPDM**

"So have you noticed the Ferret's been following us lately?" Ron asked with a puzzled look on his face as they walked into the Gryffindor Common Room. "He followed us all the way here."

Harry sighed. "I know. I've caught him twice, and he just makes up some pathetic excuse and does the bolt." He threw himself into a chair by the fire. "I want to know what he's up to."

"Well, all I can say is that I bloody hope he doesn't want to be an Auror. He tried to hide behind a tapestry when I turned around – he'd be useless at tailing anyone," Ron said matter-of-factly.

Harry looked up at his friend in surprise. "Don't you _care_ that he's following us like a creeper?"

Hermione looked up from her book, deciding she couldn't ignore the conversation any more. "You do realise _why_ he's been following you 'like a creeper', don't you?"

Ron and Harry both shot her blank looks.

She sighed. Sometimes it felt like she was surrounded by morons. "Never mind," she said resignedly.

"You know why he's been following us?" Harry asked, eyes lighting up in what could only be described as a very disturbing sort of way. He'd always had an odd fascination with Malfoy.

"Yes. And if you haven't figured it out, I'm not going to tell you," she replied primly. "Anyway, it's not something bad. Well, that depends on where you stand I guess. But not bad, not really."

Harry gaped at her. "Hermione!" he exclaimed indignantly, but she just ignored him. "Ron! Don't you care what he's up to?"

"Not really. What's he going to do?"

At that, Hermione started giggling uncontrollably, and refused to explain why.

**HPDM**

**HPDM**

Draco ducked behind yet another suit of armour. He'd realised a few days ago that he now knew the exact location of almost every single one, and how long it took him to squeeze behind them. Sometimes he could see where his friends were coming from when they told him to get help.

Potter was walking ahead, without his Weasel counterpart for a change. Draco wasn't entirely sure where he was going. Well, he figured he was going to the Astronomy Tower... but he was going alone and it wasn't exactly a good time for star gazing. Or a secret rendezvous, which was what actually happened in the Astronomy Tower instead of star gazing.

He told himself that if it _was_ a secret rendezvous he would leave immediately. He wouldn't stay to see who it was, or what they did. And he certainly wouldn't accidentally interrupt them, no chance at all.

Draco ignored the little voice in the back of his head telling him that was exactly what he'd do.

Harry had reached the staircase that wound its way up the tower, starting up without looking behind him. Draco paused at the foot of the stairs, unsure whether to go up or not. But Potter had piqued his curiosity, and he _really_ needed to know what the Saviour was doing.

Draco could admit, at least privately, that he was becoming a _little_ obsessed. But just a little bit.

Harry smiled to himself as he walked up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. Honestly, as if Malfoy didn't realise that he knew he was being followed. Ron was right; Malfoy would make a bloody awful Auror.

He trudged up the stairs slowly, straining his ears to hear the faint sounds of someone else's footsteps behind him. He walked over to the window when he reached the top, pulling his invisibility cloak out of his bag and sitting on the ledge. He kicked his feet against the rough stone as he draped it over himself. The faint footsteps got a little bit louder, until it sounded like Malfoy would walk around the bend at any minute. And then they stopped.

Harry stopped kicking his feet against the wall. If Malfoy stopped there, and didn't follow him the whole way up... well, he didn't have a plan for that.

But the footsteps started again, as if Malfoy just needed a moment to collect himself, and his head peered around the corner. Seeing no one, he crept further up the stairs until he stood fully in the room, looking confused.

What the fuck. Had Potter disapparated? No, you couldn't disapparate inside of Hogwarts; he knew that better than anyone after the debacle of sixth year.

Harry jumped down from the ledge, the soft noise making Malfoy's head whip around.

"What are you doing, ferret," Harry said with a sigh, slipping the cloak off.

Inwardly, Draco groaned as Potter materialised. How could he have forgotten his bloody fucking cloak!

"Why have you been following us everywhere we go? You're acting like a creeper." Potter didn't look mad, as such. Just a little... exasperated was probably the right word.

"I'm not following you anywhere, Potter," Draco said with a huff. "Merlin you have a big head." It almost would have been convincing, if he hadn't crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

Harry sighed. "Look, Malfoy, if you have some weird hero complex..." he began.

Draco spluttered and flailed about. "I do _not_ have some weird hero complex!"

"Then why are you following me around like some crazy fangirl?" he snapped back. "It's creepy, okay?"

"I'm not... _following_ you anywhere. We just happen to be in the same place... a lot." Draco could feel his cheeks heating up. Damn you pale skin.

"The corridor outside Gryffindor Tower is not somewhere you tend to be... a lot." Harry watched with interest as a pink flush began to spread across Malfoy's face.

"Well... whatever!" he huffed, turned on his heel and stalked down the stairs, almost tripping in his haste to get away.

Behind him, Harry growled in frustration. What the hell was Malfoy playing at?

**HPDM**

**HPDM**

"You _are_ a crazy fangirl, Draco," Pansy drawled, a smirk on her face as she listened to the story. "Potter hit the nail on the head there. It is quite astounding, though, that you're so obvious even Potter, who's infamously dense, has managed to notice you're unfortunate little... obsession."

Blaise chuckled to himself from his armchair by the fire, not looking up from his book. Pansy and Draco sat at either ends of the couch, a staring match well under way.

Draco growled. "Shut up, both of you! It's not funny! I'm your friend, you're meant to be supporting me!"

"Yes," drawled Blaise. "Good friends _do_ support their friend's obsessive stalking tendencies."

"Ugh!" Draco threw his arms in the air in frustration. "For the last _fucking_ time, I am not stalking!" He turned back to his laptop with a huff. Ever since that inventor, what's-his-name Hobs, had made magic and muggle technology work he'd been addicted to Wizardbook. Besides, Potter's WB profile was open to friends of friends, meaning he could view it.

The other two sniggered. "Of course not, baby," Pansy smirked. "What is Potter's latest status update by the way?"

Draco glared at her.

"Ignore her," Blaise cut in. "I'm sure it will all work out... somehow." He exchanged a sly look with Pansy.

"Oh my God," Draco replied faintly. "Have you been plotting?"

They both feigned a look of shock. "_Plotting_?_ Us_? You wound us grievously," Blaise lamented.

Pansy smirked. "Oh, grievously," she said with her hand across her heart. "And for that, we're not telling you what we're plotting." She stood up and held her hand out to her partner in crime. "Come darling."

Blaise stood up, throwing one last smirk over his shoulder at Draco before exiting the common room after Pansy.

Draco groaned and dropped his head onto his arms. His _fucking_ friends.

**HPDM**

**HPDM**

"You realise Harry doesn't have a clue why Malfoy's been following him, right? He's probably just as likely to punch him or to run the other way as fast as he can," Hermione said matter-of-factly. She sat at her usual table in the library, looking up at Blaise and Pansy standing in front of her with raised eyebrows.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Well that's why we're standing here talking to you, Granger. If you would drop the hint, then maybe it would work out." She crossed her arms defensively.

"Or a sledgehammer, you know, whatever would work best," Blaise added in snidely.

Hermione glared at him. "Do you want my help or not, Zabini? Because this little stalking habit of the ferret's doesn't actually affect me."

Pansy's eyes widened, her pug face screwing up at the thought. "We want your help! Really. Draco is... well, he's slightly losing the plot." She exchanged a rueful look with Blaise, and pulled out a chair at the table.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione smoothed out the parchment in front of her. "Because that's what everyone wants to hear when they're considering a potential date – he's become so obsessed with you he's losing his mind," she said sarcastically.

"Maybe don't sell it quite like that," Blaise drawled. "Try to advertise it as... an adorable infatuation, instead of a weird, all-consuming obsession that takes up his entire day. Pretend he's not a rabid fangirl. Potter can find that out for himself."

Hermione snorted. "Well, it's probably not possible for him to find someone to date who _isn't_ a rabid fangirl, being the Saviour of the Wizarding World and all that." She looked up at the ceiling of the library, and sighed. "Okay. I'll drop the sledg- hint. I'll drop the hint."

Blaise and Pansy smirked. "Yes. The _hint_," Blaise emphasised.

"Thanks, Granger," Pansy cut in quickly, elbowing her partner in crime with a glare. "We owe you."

Hermione shrugged. "I suppose I can count this as school unity building. Whatever." She stood up from her desk and slung her bag over her shoulder. "I'll be in touch."

**HPDM**

**HPDM**

So sledgehammer dropping _actually_ took a lot of planning. Real planning. It wasn't just as simple as dropping it over the edge of the staircase in Harry's general direction, because the kid was notoriously lucky. Or possibly unlucky, depending on how you looked at it... anyway, lucky or unlucky, he wouldn't get hit.

This meant Hermione had to set a trap. It involved Quidditch. While it pained her to introduce the topic voluntarily, not caring about Quidditch beyond the general Harry-doesn't-kill-himself-and-hopefully-Gryffindor-win, it had to be done.

"So Quidditch starts soon," Hermione said that evening. They were sitting, once again, around the fire in the Common Room. Being war heroes had to have _some_ benefits, after all.

The transformation of Harry and Ron's faces, from slack jawed, glaze eyed expressions to a look of absolute wonderment was... depressing. Then again, if they couldn't find amusement in any higher form of engagement, perhaps it was just as well. She despaired, sometimes, she really did.

"Yeah!" Ron exclaimed, sitting up excitedly. "I can't believe our first match is only three weeks away now, thought it'd never get here!" Harry was nodding emphatically.

Darwin's theory was slightly delusional, she thought.

"Slytherin, isn't it?" she asked innocently.

Harry gave her a look of disbelief. "You should _know_ that, Hermione," he said, condescending tone and all. "I'll finally get a crack at Malfoy."

There was a pause. The witch's eyebrow twitched. "Get a crack at him..." she said in a strained voice. "Yes. I'm sure you will." Her lips started twitching.

Ron and Harry stared at her. "You right, 'Mione?" Ron asked after a moment.

She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "Yes," she said after a moment, reopening her eyes. "Yes. Now, speaking of Malfoy, is he still following you?" she asked, voice slightly higher than usual. So she did ruin it slightly with the deep breath, and it didn't flow quite as well as planned, but _honestly_. He wants a _crack at him_? A girl can only take so much.

Besides, the hammer just had to land in the vicinity. It didn't need to conk him on the head.

"Yes," Harry glowered, Hermione's moment of oddness forgotten. "Practically everywhere, whenever he can. I haven't confronted him though. I figure, even if he does end up getting me, it's not going to be a surprise who did it, is it?"

"Not to most people," Hermione said, almost straight-faced. Ron was shaking his head in agreement, mouth full of sandwich.

"Anyway, confronting him didn't get us anywhere did it? Once I took off my cloak, he just got all shy and pink."

Hermione looked at the ground. _Merlin_, the boy was _killing her_. "Pink?" she asked, biting her lip in an effort not to smile. "Maybe he likes you."

Ron snorted from behind his sandwich. "Tha'd be fu'y. Oo 'n Mal'oy, sittin' –" he swallowed. "In a tree."

Harry went red. "Don't be ridiculous, he's not gay. Besides, he hates me!"

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe he doesn't. I mean, you did say he's been following you everywhere... and it wouldn't be that crazy, would it?" she looked up at them, big brown eyes perfectly innocent. "He's a good looking guy."

Ron spluttered over another mouthful of sandwich. "Wha'?" he said, shocked.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Ronald," Hermione snapped, looking closely at Harry. He was staring at the fire in shock – the shock of realising your arch-enemy had a boner for you, she supposed. "Just think about it," she told him as she stood up.

"Where are you going?" Ron snapped as she walked to the portrait hole. The tips of his ears were red, and he'd dropped his sandwich.

"Meeting some friends," Hermione said with narrowed eyes. "Don't snap at me."

"Malfoy friends?" he growled, ignoring everything else.

Hermione smirked. "Maybe," she said, and legged it out the door.

**HPDM**

**HPDM**

She tapped her finger on her arm impatiently as she waited outside the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. Common Dungeon, more likely. Odd people, really.

Blaise and Pansy finally appeared, a doorway opening up in the stone wall.

"You better have good news," Blaise growled. "Draco's spent the last hour agonising over what Potter's latest status update means. Why the hell does the Saviour of the World have to be so goddamn emo about everything?"

Pansy didn't look happy either.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's not emo. He's... emotionally challenged. And I do have good news, so don't whine at me. He got the message. And he didn't have a big freak out. So I'd count that as a win."

She turned to go, and then paused. "Dropping a sledgehammer isn't as easy as it sounds. I've decided you do owe me." She didn't try to stop the smile as she started off down the corridor.

"Wait! You... we can tell Draco to just tell him? Or will Harry come see Draco?" Pansy sounded stricken.

Hermione sighed good-naturedly and kept walking. "It's _your_ plot."

**HPDM**

**HPDM**

"What do you think it means?" Draco was almost feverish, shoving his laptop under the face of a frightened second year. "Tell me what you think!"

"Oh my _God_!" Blaise said as he walked back into the Common Room, stalking over to the pair and snatching the laptop. "Just. Fucking. Stop it! Go," he said to the second year, who gladly escaped to its dorm. "And you! Enough. You tell him you like him. Tomorrow. By dinner. Or I will write it on a banner and hang it from the top of the astronomy tower! Got it? Good!" he snapped and stormed up the stairs.

Well, thought Pansy. That settled the problem of where to go with their plot.

Draco looked slightly shell-shocked. "I'd do it, dear," she said gently, patting his arm. "I think he's just that fed up."

**HPDM**

**HPDM**

By the time lunch rolled around the next time, Draco was feeling rather ill. He couldn't even enjoy fact that the House-Elves had gotten mixed up and given them pancakes and steak instead of a proper meal.

He couldn't _tell_ Potter. And what was there to tell anyway? It's not like he was _in love_ with him. He didn't think about him before he went to sleep, and he certainly wasn't the first thing he thought about when he woke up. He didn't care what he did or who he did it with. It was nothing to do with him.

"I think that constitutes as being in love with someone," a voice squeaked from his left. The second year from the night before stared up at him, fear obviously lost in the wave of pity for the stupid sappy boy.

"I..." Draco began, and trailed off, looking confused. It was talking to him?

"Oh, and I think it means he finally figured something out, and he's happy about it," it added. "What you asked me last night? That's what it means. I asked my friends."

Draco stared for a moment, and then nodded dumbly. "Thank you... thing," he said after a while, and got up from the table. "You are a useful thing. It's a good quality for a thing to have." He went to pat it on the head, but changed his mind at the last second. "I have somewhere to be."

It watched him as he strode down the gap between the tables. "Good luck!" it called.

Draco wasn't listening. He could barely hear anything above the sound of his own heart beating. Was he really going to do this? He couldn't... but the status? The thing said... no, he could do this. He could do this.

Harry, Ron and every Gryffindor at lunch stared at him. It actually wasn't that long a walk from the Slytherin table to the Gryffindor table. Apparently he'd made it quicker than he thought.

"Can we help you?" asked a third year, staring at him in confusion. Harry was staring at him with wide eyes. He clearly knew exactly what he was doing there.

Draco looked at the third year, mildly surprised to see it there. "Yes. Thank you, thing. I'd like to talk to Potter. In private."

The third year obviously didn't know how to deal with being called 'thing'.

Harry stood up without a word, to the obvious protest of his friends, and started walking towards the doors to the Great Hall.

"Don't worry," Ron called after him, hurriedly swallowing his mouthful of pudding. "If he gets you, we'll know who did it!"

Hermione quietly choked on her orange juice.

Draco followed him after a moment, brow furrowed. Potter knew. Potter so obviously knew. He was going to get hexed, and then everyone would find out and he'd be the laughing stock of the school. And _God_. His _dad_. He'd probably _make_ him go home for the Christmas break and watch _When Harry Met Sally_. The man's passion for that movie was unrivalled.

Harry was staring at him. Damn, he really needed to stop going off on tangents and just get to the point.

"Um..." Draco could feel himself going red, again. He turned around to close the door to the hall, just to buy himself some time.

Harry didn't say anything, just stared at him with those green green eyes. Did Dumbledore teach him the eye trick, or had he just figured it out on his own?

Fingers clicked in front of his face, and he jumped.

"Oi." Harry sounded exasperated. "Just say it."

"Wh- what?" Draco stuttered, taking a step backwards. The entrance hall was empty, but dinner would be finished any moment.

Harry took a step forward. "You heard me. Say it. We both know what 'it' is."

"I... I..." his back hit the solid oak of the door to the Great Hall. Thank Merlin they were closed.

Harry kept coming forwards, until Draco had no way of escape. "Come on, Malfoy. I knew you were a coward, but this is taking it to extreme levels." He sounded calm. Too calm.

Draco sucked in a breath and stood up straight. "You wouldn't be too eager to do this either, Potter. Don't call me a coward for this. It's different."

Harry didn't move. His eyes searched Draco's face for a moment. "Then do it anyway," he challenged.

Everything went still for the space of a breath. Draco could hear the dull rumble of chatter from the Great Hall behind him. A voice that sounded strangely like Slytherin Thing's said... just grow a pair already.

He took a deep breath, and jumped. Leaned in (slowly, just in case Potter wanted to hit him after all). Pressed his lips to Harry's.

_Harry_, he thought dimly.

And Harry kissed him back, one hand coming to cup Draco's face and the other gripping his hip possessively.

Draco's knees went traitorously weak, but he could blame that on the relief he wasn't getting his face rearranged. Besides, he thought vaguely as he pulled Harry closer and slid one hand under his sweater, he had the door to lean on.

Slytherin Thing opened the door. Draco _knew_ he'd heard that voice! There was a collective gasp from the crowd as Draco, with Harry on top of him, went sprawling on the floor between the doorway.

For one blissful moment, that was the only sound. Then Harry looked up, glasses slightly askew, and the whole room burst into noise.

Harry jumped to his feet, and for one terrifying moment Draco thought the other man was going to decide this was too much, and that he couldn't do it. But Harry just reached his hand out and pulled him to his feet, bolting out of the room before Draco had even steadied himself.

They could deal with it later.

**HPDM**

**HPDM**

"I'm glad you're so weird," Harry said idly, pushing into Draco's hand as he played with his hair.

They were stretched out under a tree in the grounds, enjoying the last heat of the afternoon. Harry had his head on Draco's lap, eyes closed against the glare of the sun. Classes had been cancelled for the rest of the day, owing to the fact no one could concentrate after their... exhibition at lunch. Apparently some girls had fainted.

"Thanks," Draco replied drily. "That's always what one loves to hear."

Harry laughed. "No, I'm serious," he said, tilting his head back to look into grey eyes. "If you weren't so weird, this wouldn't have happened. Thanks for stalking, you know?"

Draco blushed. "Shut up," he said without heat. There was a pause. "Thanks for being stalkable, you know?"

Harry laughed again, harder this time. "Oh, shut up!" Draco said crossly, swatting at his hair (_dreadful_ hair) before crossing his arms in a pout.

Still chuckling, Harry sat up and leaned in, nudging his nose against Draco's. "You're welcome," he murmured, and kissed him.

See? Stalking _did_ get people places.

**HPDM**

**HPDM**

**Hah, yeah. Thoughts?**

_**LS**_


End file.
